Bright in the crisp, morning sky.
Shining over mountains so high.
Glistering in the arising dawn.
Shimmering a light upon.

New beginnings start this day
as the sun rises in a blessed way.
Glowing over the majestic hills.
Blossoming over the flowered fields.

Rose blossoms absorb the sunlight.
Needed for their breath-taking sight.
Birds chirping as dawn begins.
The sun now awakens.

The past
It's always on my mind
The grassy backyard I grew up in
This and that-memories of
Halloween, rabbits, fall, you.
All the things that pass in time.
I pick up this notion that
One may recall what happened to
Them when they were a young kid.
The balloons touching the ceiling of
My pre-school, the quiet time when
We supposedly slept but never did.
Like the color yellow, how I loved it,
The '89 earthquake, being shocked by it.
Songs in Kindergarten. Art, pictures, music.
Summer camp, exploring the wild, love, light,
And wind. I remember my brother
And I playing tag as the sun went
Down in the first house I moved in.
Running along the fields in the day,
Swimming, or memories of the
Tumbleweeds performance,
Being In the play.
All of the times I would always
Watch the sun on the swing as it rose
In the morning. I remember the vast
Wheat fields, a sense of calm quiet,
As if there were no place more peaceful.
Climbing my favorite pine tree in my back yard.
But one thing I remember more than ever
Was being on a field of my own.
The sky is filled with clouds always
Floating off like they
Were from an endless world of tranquility,
This warm sun, this was and-I forever remember
It to be-my one true home.

But that is another story...

I am a monument of love,
sitting with pen in hand.
I breathe deep inhaling fragrances, for inspiration.
I open ears, to hear birds sing enhancing thoughts.
I dance, moving with energies that carry me in breeze.

I am a monument of light,
writing to fill hearts
I focus, to ignite dreams of self inside song.
I invite all to come,
as love anchors inside my roots to share.
I bow with gratitude,
as the world evolves in blossoming fields of love.

Come, stand beside me
as I write to cradle hearts inside the moment.
A moment, where light leads the way,
as my monument stands tall
and I scribe to guide in grace.

StarBG © 2017

I am a sheep herder
Everything I say is as feed to a dead horse.
I whisper sweet lullabies with a deep guttural sound
That frightens, yet knows the solemnity of the sky.
I cry to a field of pale auspicious clouds
Then feel the tingling fall and accelerating answer.
Much have I seen in the break of days,
Growth always came after cultivation,
And fields were full of nothing.
How all things stay in similarity and change into variety.
But I am a sheep herder,
And I have no sheep.

Oy! My poor heart!

It's expanding just as

the sun is setting

a golden glow awash

capturing light as

it brushes each object

reminding me of golden green

fields alight!

Oy! My poor heart

expands as the sun sets

becoming a whoopee cushion

in which to sit on after it's

blown way out of proportion.

she's standing on a platform
as the train chugs on a pebbled railroad
away to April harvests
and scattered hay bales
where the sun dips low
over rolling hills
and the wind whistles
to scarecrows in the golden wheat fields

he sits by a window framing
the dancing scenery
the evening is orange
and it falls in studious rectangles
across the compartment floor
he sleeps,
and the city steals away from him

by the time he gets off that train
he will have replaced his baseball hat
with a straw one
and her pack of pink bubblegum
will have fallen onto the tracks
when he stumbles on the platform

                                                       ­                      they will grow apart
                                                           ­                  she'll write to him
                                                             ­                he won't write back
                                                                ­             and they'll let it be

People write about the city lights,
how they glimmer and shine so bright,
but all I see is a man made mess,
infrastructure, nothing more, nothing less.

Unkempt properties and sewage scented streets,
under dim lit lights and fluorescent flickering signs.
I'm driving through vast fields and flourishing forests,
that were torn up and toppled when man arrived.